India: Delhi pt 1

February 3, 2016

We arrived in Delhi a little after midnight, after two 7-hour flights (connected in Paris), which went by faster than expected. Customs was slow-going due to grumpy agents and fingerprint readers that refused to function, but we finally made it through. Santosh picked us up with a driver and we headed back to the Suryaa Hotel to crash. It had been a whirlwind day: we left NYC at 7pm on the 2nd, arrived in Paris at 8am on the 3rd, left Paris at 11, and got to Delhi at midnight.

February 4, 2016

We fought jet lag and slept until 9:00, and headed downstairs in the hotel to meet everyone for breakfast. Santosh, Sanchi, Paula, and Mike joined us for a buffet breakfast- I was in Indian food heaven! Breakfast food was not much different than what I’m used to for other Indian meals of the day, but it was all delicious.

Sanchi had wedding-related errands to do, so the 5 of us drove to the Red Fort. It’s a massive complex, with many beautiful buildings and gardens inside. We all appreciated the audio tour, and took our time meandering the grounds. Aside from taking 100+ photos, I also did some sketching. All of the history was colored by loss, since much of the site had been pillaged by the British. Many of the descriptions in our guide instructed us to imagine additional colors, gilding, and gemstones that had been lost. The weather was perfect: sunny and blue skies, but not too hot and with a cool breeze. Unusual for Delhi!

Our next stop was Connaught Place, the more modern city center. We walked through the arcades and finally decided to stop for lunch at The Vault. We sat outside on the 3rd floor, with views of the circle and honking traffic below, with a gigantic Indian flag flying in the breeze beyond. We all ordered Indian food and Kingfisher beers and enjoyed the leisurely pace. Paula got a butter chicken pizza, and Santosh and I got a stuffed paneer dish; everything was delicious. Sanchi joined us, and then we were off on a mission to find kurtas (long shirts) and other accessories for the boys. Fabindia was a fantastic store; Potter got a kurta, I got 2 shirts and a purse, and we got beautiful table runners and placemats to bring back for friends and family as gifts.

We then went to the lajpat nagar market, where we met up with Sanchi’s mom, Santosh’s parents, and some cousins of his. The market was crazy, and exactly what I had pictured it to be like. Stores lined the streets, with open-air stalls jammed in between, selling colorful clothing, shoes, and all sorts of miscellaneous goods. Other vendors wandered the streets, trying to get you to buy anything from bags to aprons to mascara by shoving it in your face and waving it around. Haggling was the norm. Eye contact seemed to indicate to sellers that you were interested in their goods, so I was torn between wanting to stare at everything, but also not get hassled for doing so. I got some embroidered sandals for 500 rupees (about $7). Perhaps we should have haggled more, but they were already so cheap I didn’t feel like bothering. Once we had had our fill, we headed back to the hotel.

Traffic here is crazy, and honking is incessant. Drivers seem to use honking instead of turn signals. Rather than a light saying “I’m going this way,” they use the noise to alert other drivers “I’m here, I’m right behind you, I’m coming up on your side! etc.” Potter likened it to echolocation! The roads are full of rickshaws (we called them tuk tuks in Guatemala), all colored the same: green bottoms with yellow tops. Some have advertisements on the side, others have little scenes painted on the back. Many rickshaws and trucks have hand-lettered signage (sometimes including the license plate!). Phrases include “keep distance,” “horn please” or “blow horn,” “use dipper at night” (which apparently means to use low beams, not high, to prevent blinding conditions that lead to accidents), and sometimes there are decorative flower borders on the back of the cabs. I love that they go through so much effort to hand-paint it all! Even the license plates are hand-lettered, along with various governmental registration and permit info.

Back at the hotel we regrouped in our rooms, then headed down to the hotel restaurant for dinner. I may get sick of Indian food by the end of this trip, but I certainly haven’t yet! Dinner was buffet again, which meant a chance to try lots of different menu items, all delicious. The dessert bar had just as many options, including Indian sweets, fruit, and ice cream that was frozen on a stone slab and then peeled off into beautiful curls on our plate.

When we got up to our room to finally go to bed (after walking over 7 miles today!), we could hear a baarat going on outside. Santosh explained that it’s the groom’s processional portion of a wedding, and included lots of drumming and horn playing.

February 5, 2016

Breakfast this morning in the hotel was delicious as usual. We sat in a nice room with Santosh & Sanchi’s family, eating eggs, paneer, freshly made parantha, a savory cream of wheat-type dish, and endless masala chai. We then departed for the Lotus Temple with Santosh’s parents, cousins, and Sanchi’s mom. The Lotus Temple is a temple of the Bahá'í faith, which was built in 1986. It resembles a lotus flower, with petals opening towards the sky. It looks similar to the Sydney Opera House, with sailing white sheets. The temple was set within a beautifully landscaped garden, and we were asked to remove our shoes before entering the temple itself. Once inside, we weren’t allowed to take photographs, so I took the opportunity to do some sketching. I’ve always found that I prefer sketching, because it forces you to really look at what you’re standing in front of, rather than taking a photo and moving on. The more I sketched, the more I noticed the complexities of the geometry. Soaring ribs supported arched panels, which peeled away from the structure to form the petals and open up to fill the space with diffused natural light. The structure was arranged around 9 points, which is unusual from my western perspective. The Bahá'í faith is very inclusive and welcoming; during services, they read from all religious texts (bible, quran, etc.). After exiting the temple, we walked across the garden to the welcome center, which included a history of the religious and photographs of the construction. The temple was built entirely by hand by volunteers of the faith, and it was amazing to see the intricate formwork and scaffolding systems used to erect the temple.

Next we headed to the Iskcon Temple. We accidentally took the long way, which resulted in a walk through a nice park. The Iskcon Temple is a Vaishnav temple of Hare Krishna. Services were going on when we arrived, so we weren’t able to see inside the temple itself, but we took some time to walk around the large complex, which included exhibition and teaching spaces. Marigold garlands were everywhere, and quite lovely. While we were waiting outside for our driver to pick us up, a huge flock of birds flew out of the their roosts in the temple’s towers, and started circling the building over and over. I don’t know what made them do it or how they knew to all fly in circles, but it was amazing to watch, and they did it for probably close to a minute.

Security is a big deal here in Delhi since there have been terrorist attacks in the past. Almost everywhere we go, we have to pass through security screening. At the hotel, they check under the cars and make the driver open the hood and trunk. At the entry to every building or temple, we have to go through baggage screening and get wanded (for men) or, patted down (for women). There are always separate lines for men and women, and the women are always inspected by women security guards behind a curtain, for modesty’s sake (of course).

When we got back to the hotel, it was time for the celebratory lunch with the Malhotra (Sanchi’s) family. I wore western clothing, but Potter donned his new kurta (green with light grey and black stitching)and white pajama pants. Seriously, it’s formal men’s ware, and they’re called pajama pants. They are very wide, with narrow legs, and a drawstring waist. Potter looked dapper! The lunch was amazing, with way too much food which we ate anyway, including about a dozen dessert options. The clear winner was something labeled “American brownie,” which was more of a delicious fudgy death-by-chocolate thing. With a melted rose kulfi on top? Amazing.

We were invited to a wedding event that night, which wouldn’t start until late, so we all took naps in the afternoon. We knew we had to go to this event, even though we didn’t know the bride and groom at all, because an aunt came up to us at the lunch and told us she was disappointed that we hadn’t come to the mendhi event the night before! Indians mean it when they say that you’re invited to a wedding, even if you don’t know the couple. Suffice it to say that we were going to the sangeet (cocktail party) that night!

Nana had sent me some sarees before we left the states, so I had Santosh’s cousins help me tie a beautiful purple saree with silver detailing. I paired a whitish silver blouse with it, and Sanchi said that contrasting-color blouses are “in” right now, so I guess it was a good choice! The cousins wrapped and tucked and pleated and pinned, and I was finally ready to go. The gave me a bindi and the look was complete. I’ve learned that Indians love it when white people dress up in their traditional clothing! Santosh’s dad kept oohing and ahhing, and I even impressed a stern grandmother.

Traffic getting to the sangeet was insane (as has become the norm in Delhi), and it took us an hour to get there even though it wasn’t actually that far! We arrived at 10:30, which was almost too early by some standards. Indians like to party! Sanchi had told us that this would be a large & fancy event, but we had no idea what we were in for. Our first clue was when we pulled up to the door, and walked down a hallway which was dripping with flower garlands, bouquets, mirrors, chandeliers, and fabric. Extravagant doesn’t even begin to describe it! When we got into the event space itself, all of our jaws dropped. The room was huge, and could easily have accommodated 500 people. There were flowers everywhere, sofas, a stage, a platform where the bride and groom were sitting with a backdrop made entirely of white flowers, club-like lights and music, and way more food than we had seen at the lunch (which had still been enough to overwhelm us!).

We made the rounds saying hello to Sanchi’s family, got drinks, and the surveyed the food scene. There were rows and rows of buffets set up. I’ve made it my mission to eat as many different types of food as possible, especially avoiding things I can get back home; no palak paneer for me! (Although paneer has been involved in literally every meal I’ve eaten to date and I’m not complaining.) One of the most interesting dishes I tried was a saucy stir-fry, but instead of veggies or paneer, it was made with lychee, the fruit! It was such an unusual and delicious combination of flavors. Once we had digested dinner, Sanchi’s cousin got us all up on to the dance floor, where we rocked out to Punjabi music all night. A DJ played songs, and there were two dhol drummers in the crowd, which really made things more exciting (and LOUD!). Around 2:00 a.m. we decided it was finally time to head out, and all collapsed exhausted into bed. Thank goodness for those afternoon naps!

February 6, 2016

Today was Santosh and Sanchi’s flight back to the states, so they spent most of the day packing; they checked 5 bags of luggage! To be fair, they’ve been shopping for wedding-related items (clothing, stationery, etc.), but they had so much stuff! We met Paula and Mike for breakfast before heading out for the day’s adventures. My breakfasts have come to consist of an egg and veggie omelette paired with a saucy paneer curry (gotta have paneer), uttapam or parantha, coffee or chai, and fresh fruit juice (mango, guava, watermelon, etc.).

After breakfast we asked the front desk about a nearby ATM, and were told there was one just outside the hotel next to the McDonald’s. We were about to head out when a staff member stopped us and insisted that a bellhop go with us. Happy to the have the company (and security, if I’m being honest) we headed out. He was very friendly and chatty (“You’re from New York? Friends! I love that show!”). It was a good thing he came, though, because the ATM was not as obviously located as we had been told. Also, the first bank we tried wouldn’t read our card, which prompted about 5 staff members to swarm us trying to help. When the card still wouldn’t go through, we got uneasy and decided to leave and try a different bank. (The guy standing with a long rifle at the front didn’t do much to make us feel better, either.) The second bank worked just fine, though.

Once back at the hotel, we met up with Shakeel, who runs a school that partners with World Faith, the NGO run by my best friend Grace. They’re an interfaith organization that does development work around the world, and when she suggested I visit their New Delhi chapter, I was excited to take her up on the opportunity. Shakeel picked the four of us up in a cab, and we drove out to the school, which was on the other side of the river. It was amazing what a difference it made to cross the river and see how different the city was. No high rises, lots of fields, and small houses dotted the landscape. We went through a toll on the highway, and were amused by the additional tiny lane dedicated to motorcycles!

After getting off the highway, we quickly turned down a bumpy dirt road and the pace and feel of the city quickly changed. The sides of the road were lined with tiny homes made of grasses lashed together over stick framing. Adults, children, dogs, goats, and cows all intermingled around the homes, which didn’t have running water or electricity. It was a stark contrast with the opulence of last night’s party. After driving a little ways, we came upon some construction for the metro system, which was clearly displacing some homes. We then turned down a road and drove through perfectly tilled fields of produce: it looked like broccoli, turnips, and some sort of cabbage. At the end of the road we reached the school and got out. 250 children were sitting on mats reciting their alphabets, repeating after a teacher who herself must have been barely a teenager. Shakeel explained to us that all of the kids are homeless, and the school has been growing in size. The children were grouped into a few different classes which were seated in different areas; some were in open air, some were under a modest tent, and some were in a simple metal building. The building is the only permanent structure; technically it’s used by the government as a homeless shelter at night, so the school is allowed to use the building during the day. But all the rest of their facilities have to be temporary, because the government will sometimes come in and tear everything down. Technically they aren’t allowed to be there, and the government views the slum-clearing as a poverty-reducing measure, which clearly doesn’t work. So Shakeel said that they always need donations for supplies, and need to design new temporary shelter than can be dismantled in 10-15 minutes.

The children were heart-achingly adorable. Their clothes were tattered and their hair was matted with dust, but they were full of smiles and kept stealing glances at us as they ran through their lessons. Shakeel had brought chocolate bars for us to hand out to them, so they all lined up and politely thanked us as we handed the candy out. “Thank you ma’am” and “Thank you didi” (didi means “older sister” in Hindi, a word I hadn’t heard since middle school when I visited my friend Shreya’s house). Some of them said nothing, and weren’t sure what to do when they reached the front of the line; an older classmate or teacher had to show them to hold their hand out to get their chocolate. I wondered what those children must have thought of us: people will strangely pale skin, who showed up, gave out candy, stood around for a while, and then left.

Shakeel handed us a pile of drawings that the students had made for us. They showed people standing around trees, which represented how important the environment is; flowers; and water tanks or hoses with water flowing into buckets, representing how important water conservation is. One of the drawings said “water is everything” in Hindi. I teared up flipping through the pages and am tearing up now again as I write this. I’ve seen pictures from friends over the years who have visited a foreign country and met similarly sweet and impoverished children. There are always such looks of joy and wonder on both sides of the picture, but to experience this myself was more powerful than I’d anticipated. Potter and I have been supporters of World Faith for a few years now, and it was extremely rewarding to see first-hand the kind of places their work supports.

We drove back to the hotel with a fresh perspective on Delhi. Up until this point in the trip, it had, for the majority, felt very cosmopolitan, and not as much of a culture shock from the States as I had been anticipating. But in a city with over 16 million people, it’s important to remember and keep in perspective the disparity of wealth, living conditions, and how everyone is treated.

When we got back to the hotel, we said goodbye to Santosh and Sanchi (who were STILL packing) and planned out the rest of our afternoon. We departed for Humayun’s Tomb, which is a large complex of tombs and gardens classically arranged around the main Mughal emperor's tomb, built in the 1570’s. The tomb is said to be a precursor for the Taj Mahal in Agra, and I’ll have to let the pictures do most of the talking. It was incredibly beautiful and so lovely to explore. The grounds were calm and quiet, with birds chirping filling the air. We arrived at dusk, and the golden lighting was beautiful on the red sandstone and white marble. We explored a number of smaller tombs and mosques before reaching the centerpiece. I made a concerted effort to work on really using my camera and not just rely on auto settings. The golden light was a good time to practice, and I’m very happy with how everything came out. Past that I’ll just have to let the pictures speak for themselves!

We next tried to visit the Dargah Hazrat Nizamuddin, a Muslim shrine set within a maze of market stalls. Upon entering the markets, we were amazed by everything being sold, mostly the shawls woven with metallic thread and Islamic writing and the bowls and garlands of roses. It was clear, though, that the market was crowded and that this was the kind of place where we should hold our bags closely and avoid taking pictures with our nice cameras. The streets of the markets were maze-like, and we had no idea which way to go, but just started wandering. Sometimes after making an (apparently wrong) turn, some shopkeepers would wave to get our attention, then point in the direction we should be going. Even without communicating, I guess it was pretty clear to them what the confused white people were here to see. We appreciated the heads up and kept walking. We finally got close (we think) and were stopped by someone saying something about our shoes. Between the broken English and thick accent, it was difficult to understand, but from what we could make out, we needed to take our shoes off before entering the shrine and leave them with him. Taking off the shoes is fine, but we didn’t understand why we couldn’t wait to take them off until right outside the shrine- who was this random shopkeeper, anyway? Would our shoes be there when we got back? Would he try to re-sell them to us? (Such scams happen.) When we couldn’t figure out how to navigate the situation, the stress of the crowded market got to us and we decided to turn around to leave. Rule of thumb is, if you’re in a foreign country, don’t know what’s going on, and feel uncomfortable, trust your gut. But on our way back out of the market, we started to approach a particularly crowded stall when a fight started to break out. The crowd got so thick that it was clear we wouldn’t be able to get through without risk being hit, so we turned around and walked back towards the shrine, hoping to find another way out. When it was clear that this was the only exit, we headed back towards the fight to wait it out at a safe distance. Thankfully a bystander not involved in the tussle saw us and helped clear a small path for us to get through. Poor white people, scaredly clutching their bags and hurrying through the crowd, but we didn’t know what else to do. It felt like the fight could have gotten violent quickly and we all felt uncomfortable. We hurried out of the market, found our driver, told him what had happened, and told him it was time for dinner. The area was full of poor people whose begging sometimes became aggressive, which only heightened the stress of the situation. One man approach the car after we had gotten in, started tapping on the window, and tried to open the door. Our driver locked the doors and took off- we were thankful that he was looking out for us so well!

After calming down and letting our adrenaline cool off, we found a place for dinner that Santosh had recommended. Nando’s in Cannaught Place served afro-portuguese food, grilled with peri-peri chili sauce. I got kebabs with veggies and paneer (surprise!) and wedge-cut potatoes. Topped everything with the peri-peri sauce and it was delicious! We were all exhausted and decided to call it a night. We have an early wake up tomorrow morning to drive to Agra. On the way back, our trusty driver gave us a night-time tour on the drive back, pointing out the India Gate, various governmental buildings, embassies, a Gandhi memorial, and the Lodi Gardens.